Count Peverall
by StreetRacer-Sam
Summary: After the third year fiasco, Harry suddenly got a letter from an old family friend. This somehow changed his entire idea about magic and evil. So Voldemort isn't the only real threat out there. And what Luna is up up to? The story originally belongs to Aiden 936. Rated M for violence, blood and some strong adult themes (?).
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

 **Hey guys, it's Sam. So, some of you might be wondering why did I published a new story? Well, to answer that, this story belongs to a friend Aiden936. He couldn't publish it from his own account and so he asked me to do it here.**

 **So here we go, the very beginning of a new saga, Count Peverall.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: The Beginning**

Harry was tossing and turning in his sleep, again. Those nightmares were getting more solid and even more realistic by every night. Every time he sees the same dream, over and over again, a white naked tree bare of any traces of leaves and a castle in the background. It was so terrifying and haunting, yet it was so beautiful. The tree reeked of raw power, and the castle; it was like a fort, huge slabs and overlooking a meadow.

Green and grey, feels somehow primitive, like a power, a presence waiting to be unleashed upon the world. He recognized the tree, it was the same wood his headmaster's wand was made of. Like someone impaled seven berries with a piece of wood. The dream ended when he tried to touch the tree, such power coursing through its xylem. It was rejuvenating yet exhaustive, warm yet cool, powerful but still unreachable. Today's dream was the same, but a bit different, like it was happening right now. The fog wasn't too thick this time. It was chilling but not cold. There was the familiar fort or castle in front of him. Grey stony exterior with a tower. Like a charm, he was approaching the castle, it was the curiosity that bought him there like a moth to a flame. The gate was massive, rusty iron, and two statues stood there like sentries.

Two huge Griffin, made of stone, or rather, carved from stone, guarded the gates in their full glory. He tried to enter the griffin shaped, ironclad gate and then, someone or something called his name, barely above a whisper. A hauntingly serene voice calling him, over and over again and he couldn't see who it was. Suddenly he was back in the reality, like a port key gone off and vomited him back in the living world. The most dreaded, second hand bedroom of his cousin, who could put the wahle to shame, whose snores were penetrating the wall and vibrating against his tympanic membrane.

 _Damn you Dudley!_ Harry groaned and rubbed his eyes, the nightmare or dream whatever it was, exhausted him even more. Like he got sapped of his magical energy. He glanced at his borrowed wristwatch and deducted that it was still two hours before his aunt, Petunia would wake up. So, he stayed in his bed and started pondering about that weird dream. His friends said he broods too much over a topic, that's makes him really paranoid.

Maybe, Sirius would be proud of him.

This thought came over with a fond smile, friends, that's correct. He has some wonderful friends. Ron, Hermione, even Neville. Ginny was a bit younger, but still a friend. Now if only Sirius would take him away from here, that'd be a real treat. He wasn't welcome here.

His own aunt, blood related and the only connection to his mother, treats him like a disease. If only he had a place of his own.

Harry got up and put on his glasses. There was a blinding headache claiming his head after he woke up. He filps and checks the time in the watch; 0430, Sunday, 23rd August, 1994. One week until he returns to Hogwarts, his true home, for his fourth year. He suddenly got a feeling that today would be very exciting for him.

Harry slowly made his towards bathroom and started his morning cleanup proces, what he couldn't do while the Dursleys are awake. With every step it felt like a hammer blitzing in his head. About 10 minutes later, Harry came out from the shower, somehow relaxed . He pulled a baggy t-shirt, a jumper, and a worn looking jeans, of course hand-me-downs from that piggy Dudley.

The joy of life!

Harry's thin frame looks terrible in Dudley' bigger clothes . Silently, he moved towards the kitchen to do his chores for the day. Life in #4 Private Drive wasn't easy. His current guardians, Vernon Dursley and Petunia Dursley. his uncle and aunt, weren't really co- operative toward him. Of course, Dudley Dursley was raised like muggle prince.

He knew that someday he'd blast that derogative dunderhead.

He had to do work or chores around the house while the fat one was gathering more oils in his rotund stomach. He had to work very hard to earn his food and money . That's definitely not normal for a fourteen year old. He had to work like a freaking house-elf!

Aunt Petunia must have been a banshee in her previous life. Even a wizard armed with sonorus charm would lose against her.

Then there was the insults, he was good for nothing, parents and their freakiness from precious Dudder's 'game' , Harry hunting, which ends when Harry got injured or exhausted, to him and his parents being'the freaks' . Yup, life definitely wasn't easy. Some times he thought about running away, but where'd he go? He don't have place to go. he had money, of course, but he wasn't old enough to use it. His godfather was alive but on the run, from the idiotic ministry. So basically he was alone. He stopped his thoughts when the toaster vomited the breakfast material. He ate his share of Breakfast and made his relatives a pile of sandwiches and turned to the stairs to his room again. But, his bloody jinxed luck! Petunia was there, standing with her arms crossed in front of her chest. Seeing the boy trying to flee, she shrieked- "Where are you going, boy? " .

 _Damn!_ and he thought he'd avoid them today. Dejected, Harry answered being without even surprised by her sudden appearance, "Back to my room, Aunt Petunia."

The female Dursley eyed Harry suspiciously, and spoke again, "The garage has lost some of its glossy exterior, I want you to fix that before 10."

Well, not surprising at all. Harry wasn't in a good mood, both physically and mentally. The nightmare took a very high leap today and he was exhausted. But Harry being Harry, said, "Ok, Aunt petunia, I'll finish it."

So thats how, after three hours, we find the hero of the wizarding world, covered in white paint droplets, staring at his newly repainted the garage wall. _Hmm, it'll be shiny when the paint would dry, not that it needed to be repainted in the first place._ But his aunt insisted, he had no choice.

He wasn't in the mood today to argue with them. His reason won't make them tolerable because they won't see his reason and would lock him up in his cupboard again. One day he'll have his revenge.

His thought suddenly interrupted when a large eagle owl swooped down towards him and dropped a letter in his hand and flew to perch on a nearby tree.

Harry frowned in confusion. W _ho's sending him a letter? Ron and Hermione haven't got his letter yet by Hedwig, then who?'_ Sirius was on the run, he uses the headmaster' carefully opened the envelope , and peeked inside. There was a very elegant silver pendant, shaped like a Griffin with emerald eyes. That intrigued him the most. Why'd someone giving him a jewelry? Harry opened the letter first and started to read ...

 _Dear Mr. Potter,_

 _You might be wondering who I am and what was I thinking when I sent a letter to you. I assure you that all will be explained in details, later. And I'm not a death eater if you're wondering. Any way, as the last descendant of the Peverall line, I'd like you to hold the family legacy alive. You have to accompany me to the Gringotts, but first I'd like to meet you in person. In order to do so you have to come in Peverall manor , the home of your Ancestor. I packed the portkey and family emblem in the letter, just say ' Peverall'. Safe journey, and I hope to see you here soon. Best would be before noon today._

 _Your faithful,_

 _Alfred shaw_

 _P. Secretary, Peverall estate_

Harry read the letter thrice, still couldn't believe what was happening. He was the last descendant of a Ancient family! That was awesome but he never heard of the Peverall line, he knew only one place where he has seen the surname. I G Peverall, signed in a corner of his Invisibility cloak, so he was related to them? That made sense, how he inherited the cloak. And his own bloody castle! That was kind of fishy. Where were these people all those years when he suffered in this wretched household.

He glanced through the backyard window, the Dursley's enjoying each others company. like he was not even there, Bloody gits! Wherever this castle was, must be better than this awful place. If someone want to kill him, at least they'll admit it openly. Only one way to find out if this things real!.

He quickly grabbed the emblem and muttered under his breath, "Peverall. " And almost immediately, Harry felt the familiar jerked and pulling sensations in his naval region from port key travel.

* * *

He arrived at the destination, sprawled on the ground. He really hates the magical travel. When his head and body stopped spinning, he looked up and gasped at the sight. His heart started beating faster, pupils dilated, breathing hitched...

A tree, total white with no leaves stood alone in the grassland and behind it was a castle, with high boundaries and two towers. Just as same as his dream, but in reality it was huge, bigger than he thought and of course beautiful beyond words. A quick throat clearing sound of someone disturbed him from eating the scenery. It was a elderly man, maybe around his fifties, suited in well fitting robes and a humble smile upon his face.

"I've been waiting for you, Master Potter. I'm Alfred Shaw, the caretaker and Secretary of Peverall estate and I welcome you to Fort Peverall, the home of your ancestors."

Then the big creaky and rusty gate opened. Alfred told Harry to follow him and started walking towards the front door. Harry still couldn't believe that this castle was his. Alfred smiled at the gawking teenager, it was the kind of feedback he expected. Then he looked at the boy and frowned. He was way to skinny and malnourished for his age. His clothes was hideous too, and he was wearing a scratchy pair of glasses. Alfred just got his work cut out from him.

"You're a very hard man to find, Master Potter. Whichever ward was placed in your household was very powerful." Alfred started.

"Headmaster placed some blood wards around my relatives house, so I'd stay safe." Harry remembered the words of Albus Dumbledore.

"Blood wards, eh? Nasty piece of magic. Who knew Brian was capable of that kind of warding. If your magical core was any bit smaller, I never would've find you," Alfred mused. "You're a lot powerful than you think Mr. Potter." He said seeing the curious expression on Harry's face.

Harry snorted, powerful? Him? Not a chance, maybe lucky.

Alfred chuckled and said, "How much you know about someone's magical aura?"

"Magical aura?" Harry was still lost.

"Yes, Master Potter. It's the magical manifestation of your core and overall magic saturated in your body," Alfred glanced at Harry. Seeing his thoughtful look the old caretaker continued. "You're what we call a mage, Mr. Potter, whose newborn aura is higher than the most wizards," Harry grasped the content easily. But some questions popped up too. He was going to ask them when Alfred stopped him. "I'll answer all of you question Mr. Potter, but first we have to report in Gringotts."

"Okay." Harry responded.

* * *

Harry and Alfred arrived at the front door of the castle. It was impressive piece of wood. So many runes and designs carved into it. Alfred took out his wand and tapped three runes, and the massive door opened. Harry suddenly turned and faced Alfred, question in his eye.

"Only one question Mr. Shaw, what kind of tree is that outside? I've seen it before."

"Ah! That's an Elder tree, Master Potter. Very rare wood used for wand making."

With that they stepped into the front ballroom. It was royal. Harry was in the front of the royally large staircase that gone up and connected the first floor from either side of the room. Armors of medieval knights and old paintings decorated the room, there were some weapons too. The curtains were a royal purple, a huge chandelier illuminating the room. In one word, it was magnificent. Alfred suddenly returned to him with a file of papers and an olive green robe. Not that he noticed his short departure.

"We must be off, Master Potter. We're already late."

"Alright."

Alfred produced another portkey destined to the bank. Before he can say the password, Harry pelted him with another question. .

"Why are you doing this, Mr. Shaw?"

Alfred sighed. He'd have this coming for a while. "I wasn't aware of your existence until this summer, Harry. Brian never told me that James's son was here in Britain," the old caretaker explained.

"Wait! Brian means Dumbledore? Albus Dumbledore!?" Harry looked flabbergasted.

"Yes. We do know each other. We studied under Nicholas Flamel for 15 years," Alfred looked even more old now. "I thought you're in France until Sirius informed me about your existence."

"Sirius was here!?" Harry looked even more gobsmacked.

"Yes, he rode that bloody Hippogriff and crashed into my window. I thought he was a dark wizard or bloody bonkers to ride that brute." Alfred chuckled and shook his head.

"What did he said?" Harry pressed. He wanted to know why he was kept in the dark about his heritage.

"That the true heir has returned. And lo and behold, here you are standing beside me, ready to embark on a journey."

"So how did I never knew about all of this? This mage thing, Peveralls? Why keep me in the dark?"

"Don't know, Master Potter. You have to ask your magical guardian about all of this," Alfred said.

"And who is my magical guardian? It's not Sirius, is it?" Harry asked.

"Nope. I think its Brian."

"Albus Dumbledore?!" Harry's eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

"Yes. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, who is a mage himself," with that exploding information, they both portkeyed to Gringotts. Harry just thought how he got himself in this kind of mess, the Peverall buisness, then the overcharged battery theory.

 _Aww god why, why can't he have a normal year for once?_

* * *

Magical travels must hate Harry. Hate maybe some small word, despise would be better. Once again, the portkey spat him on the floor, again and this time he landed on his rear side, hard. He groaned and opened his eyes. Only good thing is his glass was still intact. Alfred hovered in his line of sight, amused by the scene.

"You fell again, Master Potter? "

"No, I attacked the floor," Harry said with sarcasm thick in his voice. Alfred merely raised an eyebrow.

"Backwards?"

"I'm freaking genius!" Harry said as he pulled himself up from the lobby of Gringotts. Alfred chuckled. This boy inherited the wicked sense of Lily. Now if the temper was only the same...

Gringotts was, in one word elegant, yet scary! The goblins only made it even scarier. Each one of the eyed Harry like a piece of meat, ready to be devoured. Alfred walked straight to the front table, where an grey haired goblin sat. He haven't glanced at them yet but was aware of there presence.

Goblins weren't precious to most wizards. They tend to avoid this particular magical creatures. They're seen as vicious, greedy, and very cunning species, which wasn't completely untrue. They do cheat to increase their wealth. In their word, it's fair business. In sixteenth century, their was a huge rebellion of goblins due to wizards claiming the gold and various valuable mines. Both side lost a huge number of life and money. In the end the ministry struck a peace treaty with them and started a bank to manage most old family's vast wealth. So, Gringotts was founded.

Alfred cleared his throat loudly. "We would like to visit the Peverall family chamber, Master Goblin."

The goblin didn't spare them a glance, still he asked in a hoarse voice "And who may be'we', Regent Peverall?"

Alfred knew the goblin was speaking of Harry, probably to insult him like last time. He simply answered "Harry potter, the last remaining Peverall."

The goblin slowly raised his head. Harry noted that the rest of their hosts suddenly gone very quite. Too quite.

 _'Not a good sign'_ Harry thought.

The head teller suddenly scowled at them, or was that a grin?

"Ironfoot! Take Mr. Potter and his old friend to vault 139 and take the last heir test to justify their word," then he turned to Alfred and Harry. A grinning goblin was the quite scary sight. Harry gulped, he didn't understand why the head goblin teller was smirking at them. "Lets see if the last enemy is truly death," the head teller finished.

 _'I feel like they just won a lottery, and the prize money is me.'_ Harry shivered.

* * *

 **So here you go. It was the first chapter for a new beginning. I hope my friend would make it to the end with it. And he needs your support for it. Make sure to hit the favorite and follow button and review will be greatly appreciated.**

 **The next chapter would take some time so don't just hang on it.**

 **Till the next time.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**

 **A very hearty welcome everyone. Sam here, with another update of the story officially owned by Aiden936 with its certain official rights. Everyone of you , every reader and supporters (those who favorite and follow it) are praised by gratefulness. And to keep it this way, there you go with another chapter of the story.**

* * *

 **Gringotts**

Vault 139 wasn't a treasure horde like Harry thought. It was ritual room, made of black marble, with a small crater in the middle. Various runes were etched on the floor, walls and columns. Harry didn't recognize them; he never took runes as his elective. Harry and Alfred followed the goblin to the crater. With each step Harry took, runes flashed a deep emerald. He could feel the magic in the air, thick with power, unlike he ever felt before. A constant hum was suspended in the air; it was getting harder to breath. Alfred noticed his discomfort and placed a hand on his shoulder. Harry mentally thanked him, it didn't help much though. The magic was judging him, daring him to do something to piss it off. Harry couldn't walk anymore; the pressure was too much to bear. He slumped down on the marble floor. The Goblin arched an eyebrow, not so pleased.

"Are you alright, Mr. Potter? You seem a bit pale."

"N-no," gasped Harry "The pressure, I-It's too...much."

It suddenly clicked to Alfred and he turned to the Goblin.

"Master Goblin, quick! Give me the ritual knife, we don't have much time." He hurried. Harry convulsed in the pressure and suddenly there was pain. Unspeakable pain. The magic in the room was doing something to him, something bad. Something we do when we found a stray pest in our house. It was cleansing the pest, the impurity it found in the young mage. Soon the magic will be pure again, and vile deformities would be sent where it belongs. In the depths of hell.

Iron foot soaked the heir parchment in the fraternity potion and brought it to the butler. Alfred grabbed the knife and made a small cut in Harry's finger before it flew towards his head and dropped a drop of blood in the parchment. It flashed a deep azure and showed a name.

H. J. Potter, Baron Peverall.

While Alfred and the Goblin were doing their work, Harry was still screaming in pain. His eyes closed and hands were grasping his head. It was like someone had split open his scar and was trying to drive a truck through it. Alfred scooted away from the young man, the Goblin fled to a corner as soon as the heir test ritual was over. Alfred looked in horror as the body of still screaming Harry rose up in the air. Raw magic surrounded him, deep azure aura bathing the teen. Adjusting with his own emerald aura. It was such a captivating scene. So arcane, so pure, powerful indeed. And the magic plucked out a small darkness from Harry's scar, like one plucks stray grass from their clothes after an afternoon stroll. The little ball of darkness reeked of sheer evil, the room filled with the smell of brimstone. Sign of dark magic. And the raw magic ate away the evil impurity, azure eclipsing the dark.

Suddenly it was all over, everything stopped to a hushed silence. The screaming, the gushing and humming sound of raw magic, everything! Harry was still floating and his eyes...they were open and glowing.

Then the world exploded. Alfred and the Goblin was pushed into a wall, Harry's magic was cold, too cold and yet scalding. His mouth was still open in a silent scream, his vocal cord damaged from previous screaming. After a long minute, he slumped over in a heap on the floor. The last thing he does remember was Alfred's terrified face and the goblin's hollering for a healer.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes slowly, his body still sore and smelled like…sulfur? He thought ' _what the hell happened?_ '

He was in a small room, with couches, a sterile looking sofa and an ancient wooden table. Some kind of visiting room, maybe? And it suddenly clicked and the memories rushed back into his mind. The Gringotts, the magic, ritual, his screaming, everything!

He tried to speak but his throat hurt a lot more than his body. His throat was on fire, like someone made him swallow molten lead.

' _Must be the screaming_ ' he mused.

"You, young man, gave us quite a scare today. We thought you won't make it," someone said from behind Harry. He turned sharply to see Alfred sitting on a wooden chair next to a desk. His composure is both relieved and shaken. White hair messed, and the dark blue robe had wrinkles on many places. But he still looked well.

"What happened, Alfred?" he rasped, and then fell into a coughing fit as his vocal cord rebelled against him. Alfred quickly handed him a glass of water, which he took gratefully, and a vial of red potion. The water helped a bit, cool liquid soothed his throat for some precious moments. He eyed the bottle of potion warily.

"Don't make eyes at the potion, Master Harry. It'll heal your voice box," He stated. Harry grumbled but downed the red liquid in one gulp, then grimaced at the taste. Still tasted like goblin piss. Because of the place they were staying right now, he wasn't sure whether they use their urine in the potion or not.

"I don't like the tastes of potions. Why can't they make it less...potion-y," he rasped again. The potion started its work immediately.

"After the ingredients we use, I never thought it'd taste good. Salamander skins aren't edible to most of us," Alfred handed Harry another glass of water. "Here, it will help to wash the taste, but don't swallow it," Harry did as told and washed his mouth with the water.

"As for what happened in the room is beyond me. I can only state a theory about your magic but the incident left even me with some un-answered questions. Somehow, a piece of dark magic lodged itself into your scar. The room was meant to purify all magic. So when you stepped into the room it started to purify you. After the foul thing was gone, your magic back-lashed and you fell unconscious from magical exhaustion."

"Wait, how long was I out?" Harry asked.

"Over 14 hours, the healer said you'd be fine, eventually," Alfred said.

"Are you alright, Alfred? You seem rather shaken," Harry asked.

"I'll be alright, Master Harry. I just need some rest. Your mage status enhanced the magical backlash and it's bloody painful," Alfred sighed.

"I'm sorry, Alfred and whets this master business?"

Alfred stood up from the chair he was sitting and moved in front of Harry "Since you passed the heir test, it makes you the last Peverall and my employer. So I have to call you master."

Harry protested instantly "No! Alfred please, call me Harry like everyone else does."

"I insist, Master Harry. Its tradition and I do it out of respect."

Harry shook his head. Alfred's tone while polite left no room for argument.

"If you say so Alfred."

Just then an ancient looking goblin entered the room carrying a file; another familiar goblin was with him, carrying several more files. The ancient looking goblin took the seat behind the desk and motioned the other to leave the files on the desk. Harry recognized the goblin now; it was Griphook, who took him and Hagrid to his vault when he first came in Gringotts. Griphook left the files on the desk and left the room. The ancient goblin then cleared his throat. Harry looked away from the door and focused on him. Alfred was looking at him too.

"As you requested earlier, regent Peverall," the goblin began "I've brought the Potter estate and the peverall estate files to list of your properties."

He eyed Alfred and Harry for a moment and then continued "Currently, Mr. Potter has a Hogwarts trust vault of liquid money, a family vault full of books and heirlooms and some pictures. The old Potter manor in Kent, and a country house in Godric's Hollow. Monetary value of total estate is approximately one hundred fifty thousand galleons, including the trust vault of twenty thousand galleons."

"That a whole lotta money. I never knew I'm that much rich!" Harry said.

The goblin faced towards Harry "The Potters were the wealthiest family in Kent. Unfortunately the first war left them with very little. War is bad business, Mr. Potter. Your parents had to sell most of their properties and shares in prominent companies. That's the all they could leave you before their unfortunate deaths." The goblin picked another file and opened it.

"The Peverall estate, as of today, contains three family vaults of liquid money, heirlooms and artifacts. A fort in Yorkshire, a manor in Manchester, an old hunting house in the outskirts of Hogsmead and a flat in London's Charring cross street. The total monetary value of Peverall estate is Two billion and fourteen hundred thousand galleons."

Harry's eyes were almost popping out of his eye sockets. Mouth wide opened, only thought was _I'm so bloody loaded_.

"Until, Mr. Potter comes at age, he have to use the title Baron instead if Earl. Any questions, regent Peverall or baron Potter?" he asked at last.

"Baron? Earl?" asked Harry.

It was Alfred who answered, "The Peverall's were the Earl of Yorkshire. You're still underage, that why you have to use the title Baron if you want. After seventeen you can call yourself Count Peverall."

"Unless, you have more important issues, I'd like to focus towards more customers, Regent Peverall," the goblin said to Alfred. The goblin rose from the chair he was sitting and made his way to the ornate door. Harry and Alfred rose too and started walking towards the exit.

"Of course! We'll be on our way, manager Ragnok. Thank you for your time." Alfred said. Harry said his own thanks too. With that they made their way out of the room and into the banks lobby.

"So, what now, Master Harry? You want to return you to your relatives?" Alfred asked as they walked out from the Gringotts. It was afternoon.

"I'm due to the Weasley's today for the rest of the summer and world cup." Harry said "I can come to the castle the next day if you want."

"That'd be great, master Harry. I'll clean the chamber for you. But first..." Harry stopped a yawn and looked at the aged butler. "...you need a wardrobe change."

* * *

 **This concludes another one. Thanks a lot for giving it some time and read. The author is pleased with the response and support the story is getting so far. However, he seeks review as well, to know your views and any constructive criticism. Any doubt or questions, PM Aiden936 and he will answer them all whenever he will get chance. Make sure to leave a review and I'll see you in the next update.**


	3. Chapter 3

A/N:

Hey guys, Aiden here, just to inform that this saga will be completed. I won't abandon it. The updates might be late like this. Shout out to my friend and beta Sam, who is also an amazing writer. For questions, PM Aiden 936 or contact me on facebook. You'll find me as Silver Morningstar. Thanks to y 'all and review please. They are like Christmas present to me.

* * *

Horrors at the World Cup

Harry noticed the painting on the wall as he slithered through the narrow corridor. It wasn't magical, the portraits were still. The whispers came from the lone door in the end. The door was ajar; a sliver of light was coming from it. Someone was speaking in a low tune, almost like hissing.

'I need the boy alive, he is vital for the ritual...Wormtail!' the voice suddenly snapped. Harry jumped, as the rat like man cowered in front of someone. Probably the speaker. He only could see that much from the sliver of open door. The hissing voice was speaking again, 'Open the door, Wormtail. We must greet our guest.'

The door opened at once, he could see the man, kneeled in front of the sofa baring his left forearm. A black tattoo adorned it. He couldn't make its features from this far. His head turned to the cold voice again as two dreaded words spoken and a green sickly aura rushing towards him.

Harry woke with a start shivering yet sweating profusely. That was a disturbing dream, but why'd he dream about Wormtail and some other? There was no connection, no meaning in this dream. He picked up his new glasses from the table. Ron was still snoring loudly, that didn't even affect him. You get used to it after you share a dorm with Ron for three years. The clock was showing 7:07 in the morning. He kicked Ron lightly to wake up and made way to the bathroom in his new Batman themed pajamas.

He arrived in the burrow yesterday, after a lengthy session of clothes shopping. Alfred was thorough in his work. He brought Harry a whole new wardrobe, from underwear to a tuxedo, everything! His old glasses were gone and new silver framed roundish glasses were on. The round structure suits him, Alfred said. After the shopping they ate a light meal in the leaky cauldron. Alfred said his farewell and left for the manor in Manchester. It was closed for years and needed to be cleaned first.

"I'll wait for you to come home master Harry. Peverall manor is now your property and I hope you won't neglect it. While you are not the head but since you're the last, it falls to you to do your duties to the house."

After a shower, Harry donned a jeans and olive green jumper with white T-Shirt inside. After failing miserably to tame his wild hair, he left it alone and made his way to the kitchen. He could hear Hermione's voice , arguing over the functions of a rubber ducky with Mr. Weasly. He chuckled lightly and entered the kitchen. As usual Mrs. Weasly was humming and making breakfast. The twins were whispering about something, no doubt a new prank. Ginny and an unknown girl were chatting in a corner. The girls pale blonde hair was loose and reached her waist. She was wearing a blue robe that concealed her body but Harry could tell that the girl was on petite side. Ron was still in bathroom so he was missing, no surprise in that. He made his presence known to them.

"Good morning, everybody! " he said loudly.

Hermione turned with a small smile and returned his greetings. Ginny squeaked something that he thought was her response. The unknown girl just nodded with her eyes closed. Mr. Weasly welcomed him.

"Harry! Are you excited about today, son?" he said warmly. Today was the day of Quiddich World Cup final. Arthur Weasly and his family had received tickets as his status as a ministry worker. They agreed to take Harry with them.

"Yes, Mr. Weasly. Today will be fun. I've never been to a professional match before," he politely replied.

It was the final of 422 World Cup, both Bulgaria and Ireland team made it to the finals. Both teams were strong at certain points and have aces up in their sleeves. While Bulgaria's seeker was a prodigy, most teams feared the Irish chaser trio. Their combination and teamwork was super. Again, Irish keeper was their star while Bulgarian Beaters had their fare share of chaser blood on their hand or batters. Both teams are paired naturally and Harry could tell that it would be a tooth and nail match.

"Which team you're supporting Harry?" asked Fred (or it was George?). Every set of eyes turned onto him, like he was about to speak something important. Ronald took that moment to make his entrance and flopped in the chair near Hermione and opposite of Harry.

"Obviously, Bulgaria is going to win. Their seeker is the best. Victor Krum is the best ever seeker this world has ever seen!" he declared loudly. Harry chuckled. Victor Krum was indeed an enigma in the field, his record being 50 clean wins with no loses yet. He was a celebrity in teenage population, and heartthrob of many.

"You see, I want to see Krum in action but Irish chasers are the best, so I'll be rooting for the Irish team," the twins looked gleeful. Ron just looked aghast.

"How can you, mate? He's a Seeker like you. You should support him, seekers code and all that," he said. Hermione rolled her eyes at his antics. Ginny nodded before speaking.

"I'm supporting Bulgaria too," Harry just gave her a small encouraging smile. The Blonde spoke for the first time since Harry arrived, in a strange dreamy tone that reminded him of Sybil Trelanway.

"I think Victor will catch the snitch but the Irish team will win," Harry raised his eyebrows at her strange prediction.

"Why my dear Luna…" began one twin.

"…we'll take you on that word," finished another.

"While I don't know how…"

"…You do that…"

"…but…"

"…we're giving our 5% profit…"

"…If you're correct in this prediction," they ended in their weird duet.

"Why thank you lads!" she, Luna, exclaimed loudly.

"Its settled then…"

"…Krum catches the snitch…"

"…but Irish wins," they finished and turned to Harry and their father.

"Will these would take our prices, brother of mine…"

"…or just hurt our emotions by neglecting us?" one finished by dramatically placing his hand in his heart.

Arthur chuckled and placed ten galleons on Krum. Harry just laughed and shook his head.

"Sorry guys, but I'm no gambler."

Breakfast was a very loud and joyful event that day. Hermione and the other girls speaking in a quite tone and giggled a moment later when Molly put her two cents in. Twins and Ron were arguing about Quiddich, Arthur was reading the prophet.

Harry's neck was hurting from following their conversations. He just finished his breakfast and leaned back in his chair comfortably and crossed his arms. Yes today was proving to be a good day.

* * *

When Harry entered the small tent with disdain, his words literally paused in his mouth. It was huge on the inside! They had one wing for girls and one for the male occupants, a loo and one attached bathroom, and a kitchenette with a long wooden table. He whispered with a small grin tugging on his face.

"Magic is Awesome."

Arthur hollered from the door of the tent, "Hurry up kids, you'll miss the opening!" and there was scuffling sound of 'coming dad' or ' We'll be there'

A Good fifteen minutes later they started their journey to find their seats in the looming stadium in the short distance. On their way they met the Diggorys, who accompanied them. Luna left with his father to the press box. Apparently they had their own magazine, Quibbler, and were invited along with the media. They left via Portkey from a hotspot near the burrow, the travel still hated him. After got sucking in the vortex, the portkey spat him in their destination. Most of them landed on their feet, except him. Even Hermione landed more gracefully than him. Him and Ron being the only exception and they fell on their ass and face respectively. They'll never hear the end of it for a long time.

After putting their luggage in the tent Harry and the co. headed towards the stands, their stand was in a very high spot from there they can see the whole stadium very clearly.

"I'm amazed that you can afford to come here, let alone with the ministry," someone very familiar, drawled.

"Not now, Draco. I'm not sure if these fine gentlemen and ladies can handle the truth here," another one smugly said.

Harry looked behind him to see the most unpleasant people he met in the Wizarding world. Malfoys! The father and son were looking absolutely prim in their dark blue robes and matching trousers. The picture of wealth and aristocrat both had a superior smirk in their face. Arthur frowned. He knew they'd be here. Lucius was very close to the current minister. Obviously Fudge invited them personally to increase his pockets weight. Ron was scowling, and bit back a snarky remark. Ginny stayed silent as Lucius's gaze swept upon her.

"Hello, Lucius. I didn't know you were into Quiddich," despite his discomfort, Arthur tried to be civil.

"I'm not here to see this childish games, the minister invited me meet the Bulgarian minister," the smug look never left the Malfoy patriarch's face.

"Well then, come on children, let's get to our stands," he urged the children, trying to get away from the unpleasant man. Harry turned away from them. He was in no mood for their insults. The elder Malfoy, used his hooked cane and stopped Harry.

"Be careful, Mr. Potter, next time you won't be so lucky," he said with a sneer and let Harry go.

"Come on, Draco! We already spent enough time for this peasants," he turned and started walking towards the ministry box. Draco gave him another sneer and followed his father.

"Come on guys, the match is starting," Arthur tried to guide his children to their designated stands. Harry stared after the Malfoys for a while and muttered under his breath.

"Next time you won't be so lucky too."

"What was that, Harry?" Hermione asked. Harry shook his head and dismissed her.

"Come on, let's enjoy the match," with that he followed Arthur.

* * *

Luna's prediction came true. Krum did catch the snitch but Irish team still won. The Bulgarian team lost 240-250. It was a close game, full of adrenaline. Harry found himself enjoying, professional Quiddich applied to him; maybe he'll join a club after graduation. He, Sirius bother were the fans of Puddlemere United's, While Remus supported Wimbourne Wasps. It will be a very entertaining when three of them would discuss Quiddich, because Wasps and United's were Rivals. Every time they played against each other, it was spectacular and fought to the bones.

"We told you that earlier…"

"…and our prediction made us 300 galleons richer!" the twins were saying. Harry and Ginny were chuckling. Hermione arched her eyebrow.

"Luna predicted that, for your kind information. Give her some credit."

Ron was upset that Krum lost, he sulked while others were joking. Harry thumped him in the back.

"Cheer up mate, they'll win it next year!"

Ron grumbled something unintelligible and Harry laughed at his childish antics. They were returning to the tent they were staying at. Arthur was finishing some meetings with his ministry colleagues. It was a festive mood in the stadium. They all froze when a Blood curdling scream erupted from somewhere followed by a huge explosion. Instinctively, they pulled out their wands and searched for distress. Then the Group saw them. They were in robes dark as night, they were even seemed to absorb in it. Silvery masks glittered in the moonlight.

Death Eaters, the Knights of Walpurgis and followers of the worst dark lord in millennium.

The Twins turned towards Harry, "Harry, Ron, Hermione, hide in the forest and do not come out until we find you. Ginny with us, to the tent," Ginny followed them, as they ran towards their tent.

Hermione tugged on Harry's shirt, "Come on, Harry. We need to hide. "

Ron was already ahead of them, trying to find a way through this chaos. It was a chaos indeed. Tents were burning, people were screaming then someone abruptly stopping their scream, like someone ripped their voice cords. People were trying to flee, run from these merchants of death. It was Anarchy. And in between them Harry got separated from the group and ended in the wrong direction.

When an agonizing moan reached his ear, someone was begging for help, he realized. His inner Gryffindor kicked in and he rushed towards the voice, wand ready. As Hermione dubbed this his saving people thing, and Snale chastised many times as reckless foolish behavior, he recognized the person who was screaming for help as silvery blonde hair shined in the moonbeam.

Luna!

They held her under cruciatus to torture her father. Harry counted four death eaters around them. Obviously they were questioning Luna's father, holding Luna under the torture curse to motivate her father. Those sick little bastards! Harry used every bit of his self control to not jump and curse them into oblivion.

"Answer me Xeno, where is the medallion? I know you've seen it recently. Where!?" One was asking. Xeno shook his head, and shakily replied

"I've last seen it in the Tomb, next day it was gone. Please believe me, don't hurt her!" he begged at last.

"He won't answer like that Lucius, maybe seeing his daughter getting raped may change his mind!" snarled another one. Harry gritted his teeth, fist clenched. It was Malfoy senior.

"Your too much impatient ,Cecil. But we don't have much time either. Go ahead, Avery do it," he said. Avery tore open the lower part of her pale blue top, revealing smooth cream flesh of her belly. Luna whimpered and tried to get away, but Avery held her in place.

"No!" Xeno tried to get up, but Malfoy kicked him in the face.

"Tell me and save her future, Xeno," he sneered.

Harry couldn't take it any longer. It was fate worse than death. And in good conscience he couldn't watch while it was happening in front of him. He jumped from the bush he was hiding at and hurled the first curse came to his mind.

"Reducto! " he was a mage, and the power of the spell surprised even him.

The death eaters jumped in alarm at this intervention. Unfortunately, the man holding Luna, Avery, moved his head just in the way of Harry's curse. Splat! Avery's Head blasted like egg. Splattering brain matters everywhere, showering his fellow eaters in blood and gore. Everyone was shocked in this change of events. Even Harry himself. Lucius took this chance and quickly disarmed him, before binding him in a strong rope.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't potter. Trying to save a damsel in distress again?"

His ever present sneer was in place. Cecil Nott looked like Christmas came early. The last one just grunted in response. Harry was stuck, he hadn't thought about this before, no matter how powerful he was, he was still lesser in skill than Lucius, who was a ruthless death eater and a master duelist. He wasn't skilled enough to defeat them. He cursed his Gryffindor nobility inwardly. He wasn't afraid of them. Instead he stared defiantly at them. Teeth bearing!

"I'll have some fun with you before delivering you to our master. Crucio!"

The crimson spell connected with Harry, lit his nerves on fire. It was like hundreds of burning knives, piercing him repeatedly. The pain was too much for his young body, and he fall face first on the ground after Lucius lifted the curse.

"Pathetic! And you thought you'd defeat the Dark lord, who was much greater wizard than you," Nott snarled. Harry was panting heavily from the intensity of the spell. It was nothing like he experienced in his whole life. The Magic in his body was still recovering from the ritual room, meaning it was much volatile, aggressive than before. His hate for these people rose a bit. All he wanted now wasto hurt them badly, hurt them for killing so many innocent, for torturing him, trying to rape a girl that was younger than his own son. His magic responded, and fueled by his murderous intent, surged forward in a wave of power.

Lucius casted the cruciatus on Harry once more. He was having a good time, revenge for his humiliation in the Hogwarts, but the spell fizzled out before it can reach him. His magic surged forward like a tsunami wave., pushing everyone away from him. The earth trembled. Jagged rocks burst forward from the ground and impaled the first death eater through the throat; Cecil Nott squirmed a bit and then fell silent as his life escaped him. Mulciber, the fourth death eater, tried the escape but some sharp rocks found him and used him like a pin cushion. He fell too. The pool of blood grew around them. Harry watched in awe and fear what was happening in front of him. He killed three men! His eyes found Nott and Avery's mangled body, and his stomach turned.

Lucius barely managed to avoid one rocky spear that sprung from the soil beneath him, almost impaling him like Nott. However, it grazed him across the cheek. He screamed and apparated away quickly. A voice shouted his name from behind. He wasn't paying attention. His stomach wretched again as he vomited. Harry calmed himself as someone helped him up. Head still ringing, body aching from the cruciatus. He asked for Luna and her father, and got something jumbled response in return. Someone was asking if he was alright, he nodded distantly as his eyes fell on Notts impaled body. His eyes wide, mouth shut and a horrifying expression in his face.

The tents were burning in the distance, Aurors appeared some time ago. His eyes were distant as he thought of the Horrors that fell upon this joyful event.


End file.
